


No Half-God Am I

by alesca_munroe



Category: Unseen - Long Story Short Productions (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29076684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alesca_munroe/pseuds/alesca_munroe
Summary: The mind is a curious thing. The strangest things pop into it at times of stress.  Even worse when you’re slowly running out of oxygen.Edmond is in dire straits. Memories play in his mind while he tries to rescue himself.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	No Half-God Am I

You are in a box. That's all you can think when you regain consciousness. A small, dark box.

No, you think, as you try to move around, try to get up, and get approximately nowhere.

It's a coffin. Someone knocked you out and put you in a _ coffin _ . Panic claws at the back of your throat, and you almost give into it. But you're a professional. You're an experienced Black Star agent. And when you get yourself out of this mess, Addison will never let you hear the end of it. Honestly, that last bit is what keeps you in your head. Your twin is the clever one, after all.  _ She _ wouldn't have gotten knocked out and stuffed in a box.

"This reminds me of a story," you mutter to yourself and start trying to figure out how to get out of this mess.

\---

A quick check reveals that whoever put you in here was smart enough to take your phone, and rude enough to take your wallet. You're also missing your copy of The Lost World, which feels like insult to injury at this point. You were just getting to the good part.

Experimentally, you start kicking at the coffin, seeing if the wood will give way under mundane efforts, or if you might need to apply more fun measures. Secretly, you hope you can shatter the box with some good old fashioned magic.

The coffin is cheap, and feels like- well, it feels like you're not in open air. It's been a while since you've been buried alive, you think.

No, not buried, you realise, as you start to splinter the wood and it's not dirt that comes pouring in. You snap out a spell to repair the wood. The water stops coming in, but the briny smell remains, along with the water soaking into your clothes.

They threw you into the sea.

Right, you think. Not good.

\---

_(You told Addison about the myth of Perseus once as a child. She says it's the only story you've ever told her that had a happy ending._

_You think about that sometimes.)_

\---

So, coffin. At some undetermined depth in the sea. Barely sealed against the water, likely so you would have time to wake up before you drowned to death. Or, given the spell you cast to repair the broken part from your attempt to break out (it was worth a shot) you might suffocate instead. Options. How nice.

Water is Addison's skill. She would probably be able to figure out at what depth she is and in what particular body of water just from the water soaking into her socks, and then get out of this mess. She always was the clever one.

Moving on.

Fire won't be of use here. Fire eats oxygen, and you need what little you have left. Thank God Steven isn't trapped in this mess, or he might have exploded the coffin, intending to ask questions later, and-

Steven. Steven, who was on this little jaunt with you, just a quick trip to Crete to pick up information, perfectly safe for your nephew to come along on his summer holidays from the Academy. Who might be in as dire straits as you.

Stop. Focus. Lack of oxygen isn't helping, clearly, but _ focus _ .

Fire won't help, but air will. You're not an air mage, those are hard enough to come by. But being a fire user means you have more than a rudimentary understanding of air, how it works, how, in a pinch, to make it work for you.

You focus. Sensing fire is easy, second nature. Sensing air, well. It gets easier when you think of it as a place to _ start _ a fire.

It’s not far. Farther than you’d like, of course, maybe ten or so feet if you’re any judge of distance-

( _ “I’m not jumping off this diving board; are you mental?” _

_ “Oh, c’mon, Edmond, it will be  _ fun _.” _

_ “I’m going to drown.” _

_ A smile, a squeeze of hands. “You’re not going to drown.” _

_ “You don’t know that.” _

_ “Well,  _ I’m  _ going to jump, so-” _

_ “Wait. I’ll- I’ll go first. I’m your big brother, after all.” _

_ “Twenty-six minutes-” _

_ “Still counts.” _

_ Open air. The impact of water. You don’t drown _ .)

You shake your head, refocus. The mind is a curious thing. The strangest things pop into it at times of stress. Even worse when you’re slowly running out of oxygen.

Ten feet. You’ve been at the deep end of a pool before, gone down when Addison had decided to sit at the bottom until you learned to swim properly, such a brat of a little sister, but you love her more than anyone else-

Focus. Focus. You’re getting dizzy. It’s now or never.

You take a breath and blow apart the coffin.

\---

The impact of water has not gotten better with time. You almost lose what little breath you have when the water closes in around you, but you figure out which direction is  _ up _ and start swimming for it. Your movements are sluggish. You fight against the weight of your clothes, the weight of water, reaching for the light you can see ahead-

( _ “I can’t believe you could find a barely-lit cigarette in the woods. The training exercise was in a wooded area twenty kilometers around, and you found your target because he couldn’t go six hours without taking a nicotine break.” _

_ “That is not nearly as impressive as pulling water from the ground. It hadn’t rained in days, and I heard your instructor had never seen the like.” _

_ “Learn to take a compliment, Edmond.” _ )

Your lungs burn. Everything starts to get dark.

You hope that Steven makes it back to Addison safely.

\---

( _ “So… what’s going to happen to Steven Winstead now?” _

_ “You knew exactly what would happen when you brought him across the ocean, Edmond. Don’t play daft.” _

_ “I didn’t want to assume.” _

_ “While it is impolite to have referred to him as a souvenir, he will remain in my care. He’s barely seventeen, he’s traumatized, and you spend too much time running all over the globe to be a proper role model.” _

_ “Oh, is that the only reason, Addison?” _

_ “I’m not stoking your ego, Edmond. Now file your paperwork; that forty-minute long voicemail is not an appropriate report format.” _ )

\--

You gag and try to vomit, but it's hard when water is already being pulled from your lungs. Steady hands hold you on your side to help the water drain, to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit. “Easy does it,” Steven says, trying to be soothing but still coming off as panicked. “Edmond, I think I didn’t fuck up your innards, but Addison didn’t exactly cover how to pull water from lungs, just-”

“You did brilliant,” you manage and keep hacking. “Where are we, are you all right? Did-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, they never saw me. I called in a tip to your local agent and followed the goon squad when they loaded you into that coffin. I swear I thought you were dead, and then they dumped it off in the  _ middle of Souda Bay _ -”

You reach up and grab Steven’s hand. “Just glad you’re safe,” you tell him.

Steven smiles down at you, shaky. “I’m gonna need you to deploy your particular brand of LaValle charm,” he tells you. “‘Cause we’re on the beach at the military base, and the security goons are coming. Right now.”

You chuckle and drag yourself into a sitting position. “Lesson one,” you begin. “Don’t call them security goons.”

\---

( _ “You should teach Steven some of your water magic.” _

_ “Given the fact that he is very clearly a fire mage, I’m not exactly sure what you’re getting at.” _

_ “Addison, just because we know he’s good with fire doesn’t preclude him from being good at other things, too. And...” A smile. A squeeze of hands. “Who knows, maybe one day he’ll need to be able to pull water from the ground.” _ )


End file.
